Promises
by potatoes-are-not-for-sex
Summary: It's the 63rd Hunger Games and a young Daniel Howell finds himself caught up in the whole bloody, bitter mess. Phan, HungerGames!AU.


**01.**

He watches the trees and mountains flicker by in heartbeats, brown eyes scanning the horizon, unsure precisely what they are looking for.

The whole morning has passed in dream-like moments; his mum combing down the stubborn curl of his fringe, catching Nessie's eye as they lined up, secretly praying that she was lying when she'd said '48 times', the sound of pointedly manicured fingernails, scraped against the curved glass, unintentionally taunting.

"Daniel Howell?"

It was a question and a death sentence, rolled out in her piercing Capitol accent, but it isn't until the gleam of his destination catches his eye amongst the seemingly endless landscape that Dan knows he is never going home.

**02.**

The crowd is an immense, throbbing wave of energy.

They cheer and cry and scream at him, and he can't distinguish the praise from the taunts, so opts to keep staring straight ahead. Next to him, Marrysa, the butcher's daughter, does her best to smile and wave, but he's close enough to see the tears threatening in the corners of her eyes.

He only needs a short glimpse at each of the faces, illuminated on the enormous banners that line this mad parade, to confirm that he is definitely the youngest here.

With a rumbling welcome, the President Snow greets them, sticky words sliding out from even sticker lips. No one from District 12 was fond of their ruler, and now Dan has an even better reason to loathe every inch of him.

Instead, he turns to look at the carriage next to theirs, and is surprised to see a dark haired, narrow teen staring back at him.

More surprising is when his hand lifts, as do the corners of his mouth, and he sends Dan a little wave.

He doesn't have the chance to work out if this boy is trying to intimidate him or befriend him, because the carriages start moving again and they're whisked off once more.

**03.**

He's watched the hunger games before.

He heads straight to the fire making station first, and after that the knots and snares. The older boys and many of the girls marvel the rest of them with their weaponry skills, most of them careers. But Dan is only 12 years old, and can barely hold himself up when struggling through the ropes course.

The boy who waved to him, from District 11, is at least as old as District 1 and 2, but is hopeless at most of the stations he tries- except for the climbing. Here, he scurries to the uppermost handholds with ease, with an almost surprised look of pleasure when he realises he's the first to the top.

They cross paths at the herblore station, although Dan don't realise it at the time. He's too busy selecting out the poisonous leaves and presenting them to an impressed trainer, so he doesn't know a similarly impressed shadow, taking note of an invaluable skill to have within an arena designed to kill.

**04.**

District 11's name is Phillip Lester, but Caesar calls him Phil.

They laugh together and his blue eyes sparkle out from the TV screen, even when he's talking about leaving his little brother and wondering who's going to teach him how to climb if he doesn't get back, those eyes never stop smiling.

Dan turns off the screen before his own interview comes on.

**05.**

When the chute finally gives way, Dan is momentarily blinded by the glaring sunlight. The bright patterns burnt into his retina eventually give way to a vast expanse of earthy red sand, the sun beating down relentlessly on his face.

To his left is Marrysa and next over is Phil, who has already turned away from the Cornucopia in the centre to scan the horizon behind him. Dan follows suit, noting the scraggy rock formations in one corner and a cluster of what appears to be palm trees over behind District 4.

Before long the siren sounds and he begins to run, dodging and weaving as he goes- _never be an open target, never let them catch you_.

**06.**

The sand is no place for hiding. Most people disappear into the rocks and caves, trying to make do with what they've salvaged from the first day or plants and small lizards that can be found coming out just after sunset.

Dan arrived at the oasis before the careers and drank with earnest, but with no method of storing water other than his hands, abandons the find that night, heading further into the trees, and not a moment too soon.

They set up camp by the water and catch far too many, too easily, overwhelmed by thirst and the heat. At the end of three days, Dan can barely move due to dehydration and there are only eight of them left. He doesn't know that there was an elaborate scheme to catch District 1, set up by 7 and 8, nor does he know that it failed and their necks broken by hands far too nonchalantly murderous for a seventeen year old.

**07.**

The trickle of water into his mouth is enough to wake him, but not to entice his eyes to open. But then he hears the voice.

"Daniel? I think that's your name. Come on, help me out, swallow?" He obeys, and the cool fluid is heavenly flowing down his throat. After a few more eager mouthfuls, he finally blinks into sight the face of Phillip Lester.

He could have killed Dan, fairly easily- he's four years the elder and Dan is in no state to fight anyone. But he sees his potential and he takes a gamble.

"Now, lets get you up into the tree then. I need your help."

**08.**

Phil, it turns out, is very popular with the sponsors.

He managed to climb up to the top of the cornucopia and lay low while the others fought. He doesn't talk about what he saw and Dan is glad for it. Waiting until the victors had moved on, he slid off the smooth structure and salvaged some items from the mangled bodies, quickly before the cranes came down.

A backpack, a length of rope, one small dagger, a tube of sun protection lotion and a strange, glass container that had completely baffled him for two whole days. After 24 hours, he'd received a parcel- 2 fresh loaves of bread. (He still had a whole loaf left, which he shared with Dan while they spoke softly.)

It was the end of the second day, and the thirst was getting to him. Still baffled by the glass container, he'd sat in the sand beside the cornucopia, building small mounds with it, before falling asleep just inside it's sheltering curve.

When he'd woken, the glass was filled with water. "A miracle of technology," he said, passing the mouthful left over to Dan, "But I'm running out of food now and it seems to only give me water, or champagne."

Phil nearly falls out of their tree laughing at the sight of Dan's face.

**09.**

They take turns, standing guard and sleeping. It's already unfamiliar- sleeping with both eyes closed, trying not to flinch awake at every sound, even the ones in his mind.

"I'll take first shift."

"I was asleep when you found me! You can rest first."

"You were dying when I found you. Go to sleep, that's an order."

Dan tightens the rope securing him to the leafy branch and his eyes are already well and truly closed by the time he realizes he never said thank you.

**10.**

They have a blessed two days. Phil shows him how to find the right spots to place his feet along the tree trunk. Dan shows him which leaves will kill you and which ones will sooth your stomach. They drink water in the morning and at night, always carefully stowing the glass away.

On the second day, Phil starts asking questions, about home, about his friends, his family. Dan doesn't mean to say so much, but it all comes to easily and soon they are swapping school stories and it doesn't occur to either of them that befriending someone you will eventually have to kill might be a bad idea.

The following night, the other survivors attack the careers. All that is seen from the sheltering fronds of the trees are five cannons fired and then there are three.

**11.**

She comes first thing in the morning, clearly hoping to catch them asleep or drowsy. They'd already worked out that it was District 2 who had been the lone survivor, and they had plotted all night.

Phil watched from behind a sturdy trunk as she approached, slotting neatly behind it as she passed. He waited until she was close enough to the designated tree before slipping between the trees and emerging just beside her.

"Looking for me?"

With a roar she swings the heavy axe through the air, but he dodges easily and scurries onwards. Never too quickly, he stays just out of reach from each blow- that is until he turns to check that he is heading the right way and she catches him just above the hip. A deep wound blossoms blood onto his cream linen shirt, but he stumbles onwards still, hands tenderly pressing to the area as he winces with each movement, his predator closing in, her hands wrapping malevolently once more around the wooden handle.

**12.**

Dan manages to set off the trap at the precise moment she steps into the roped web, catching her ankle as it springs upwards. She still swings her axe around as she spins, upside down, but Dan hits the back of her head with a large rock and she drops the heavy weapon to the sand.

He hurries over to Phil, who is moaning softly, curled around his abdomen.

"Is she dead?"

Dan looks back.

"I don't think so. Maybe I knocked her out? I didn't hear a canon."

Phil nods.

"Go get me some of that nightshade- and hurry!"

They mix it up with some fresh water and pour it into her mouth while she's still asleep. Dan actually manages to agree with Phil as he says it's the kindest way to do it, not realising that Phil had promised not to slay a single child at the start of this destructive journey, and had only changed his mind upon meeting the boy beside him.

**13.**

"Well, now what do we do?" Dan's head is propped on his knees- only now in the calm moonlight does Phil see just how scrawny the boy is, a life time of starvation leaving little to be lost over the past few days. He's so young.  
>"I'm not sure. But give me a moment and I'll think of something." They wrapped him up in palm leaves and he can manage a smile for Dan, but he can still feel the blood pumping out beneath the waxy mock-bandage.<p>

There must only be one victor, and he doesn't want to wait for someone else to decide who that will be.

"You know, I think I saw some bandages and salve in the cornucopia- no one took it before because they didn't have a need, but maybe if you could grab it for me we could wrap this up a little better?" Dan is on his feet in an instant, dusting the sand from his pants and nodding sharply, like a little soldier.

"Bandages and salve, don't you worry, I'll get it! Hold tight Phil." He's about to head off across the sand when Phil calls him back. He crouches down next to the older boy, who (to his surprise) runs three fingers through that curly fringe, and whispers, "You be careful Daniel Howell."

Dan grins, but doesn't move away just yet. "It's okay, we beat them all! I don't have anything to be afraid of with you by my side." He's up on his feet and waving to Phil a heartbeat later, "I'll get you that salve and then we can try catch some proper food, finally!"

Then he's gone and doesn't hear Phil whisper back to him- "For us, there's always something to fear."

He waits as long as he can manage, until he's sure that Dan's out of sight. Maybe this will only make this worse, he wonders, as he unwraps the leaves between winces and low moans of pain, but it's the very least he can do.

Dan is trying to decide whether to walk or run the rest of the way to the cornucopia when he hears the canon blast and stops dead in his tracks.

By the time he's sprinted back to the oasis, the helicraft has arrived and it's closing it's metal claw around Phil's motionless body. Dan's hands scramble across his weeping body for something grab, a hand or anything, to prove that he's not dead, he can't be- there was no one left to hurt them.

There is a loud tear of fabric ripping and then Phil's gone. He's left with a bloodstained patch of Phil's shirt, as the trumpets begin to play the victors tune and it rains small drops of red down onto Dan's face as the helipad rises up and flies away.

Another arrives shortly after for him, but he's so stunned they have to come and carry him up to the ladder by force. His heart is racing but his limbs are cold and motionless. Around the Capitol, parties begin in earnest, drinks are poured and winning bets are rewarded.

The youngest victor yet, at only 12 year old the winner of the 63rd Hunger Games; hands dripping with blood.


End file.
